Destiel glasses kink prompt fic
by KissMeDeadlyT-T
Summary: Prompt, very simply: "Glasses." -In which Cas inexplicably has glasses, and Dean is extremely flustered and in denial about how goddamn hot Cas looks wearing them. Drabble, glasses!kink, cheeky Cas, rated T for language. Established Destiel.


**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Ahh I'm sorry I've been on hiatus for so long. Writing is _hard_ when you're stressed as hell. (I hate high school. Someone save me.)**

**My friend Abbey (captainpiners on tumblr) gave me a prompt - more specifically, I asked her for inspiration and she answered with, "Glasses." Thx Abbs**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Glasses."

Cas blinked at him from behind the thick frames sitting on the bridge of his nose, a crease appearing between his eyebrows in confusion. "Glasses," he confirmed, a slight lilt in his voice letting Dean know that the ex-angel suspected he was slightly mentally unwell. Slowly, like he was talking to someone who didn't know a word of English, Cas said, "I assume you know their purpose."

Dean nodded, running his hands down his face, standing up from his bed and pacing the length of the room. It wasn't a big deal, really – they were just _glasses_, and it didn't matter that they looked _really fucking good_ on Cas. He swallowed down the mysterious lump of stupid and unexpected desire in his throat.

"Glasses," he said again, and he could feel Cas' irritation without even looking at him. He tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make him sound like a complete idiot (but he ended up just choking on the world 'glasses' again, so he took a moment to compose himself), and turned to face the confused and slightly anxious ex-angel sitting on his bed. For a moment, his hands flailed uselessly about his pockets, and Cas' eyes began to take on a truly concerned light, like he was worried Dean truly had lost his mind, and Dean thought that maybe he had, because there was no way he should find a piece of plastic and two glass lenses so fucking hot, and there was _definitely_ no way they should make his stomach feel like it was taking a ride on America's biggest roller coaster. This was really all just ridiculous, and he blamed this solely on the fact that he hadn't gotten off for a couple days.

Finally, he cleared his throat, and managed to string together a word. "Why?"

Cas cocked his head. "Why what?"

"The glasses, Cas," Dean said impatiently, gesturing wildly at them as if they'd horribly offended him with their mere presence. "Why do you have them?"

"Oh," Cas said. He plucked them from his face and squinted down at them, angling them this way and that so that the light caught and reflected off of them. Dean tried not to think that it was really quite endearing, because that didn't even make sense. "Sam noticed me squinting and suggested I have my eyes checked. He referred me to an optometrist in the nearest town and booked me an appointment." He frowned, looking quite disgruntled, and okay, Dean would admit it, adorable. "Now that I am human, I seem to have some difficulties seeing. I suspect Jimmy may have worn glasses at some point."

"But you're _Cas_," Dean stressed, like that explained everything. "You're supposed to squint. Squinting suspiciously and lookin' at people like they lost their damn minds is what you're _supposed_ to do."

Cas stared up at him with narrowed eyes as if to prove Dean's point that looking at people like they were batshit crazy was kinda his thing. "Jimmy had these… things, in his eyes, when I first entered him. After he disappeared, I removed them, because I found them unpleasant, not to mention unnecessary. Sam told me that they might have been contact lenses." He shrugged, an entirely human, casual movement that made Dean feel kinda girly and fluttery and dumb, and slid the glasses back on as if they weren't ruining Dean's life by just being there. And by ruining it, he really meant making it infinitely better – Cas really suited those glasses, and holy _shit_ was Dean gonna have a hard time keeping it in his pants from now on. He noticed Cas was staring at him again, and realized he was probably meant to make a response of some sort to Cas' statement.

"Oh," he said, somewhat uncomfortable with how much bluer and bolder Cas' eyes looked behind the thick lenses. It was actually almost physically painful how hot Cas was right now. Dean was going to have to secretly thank Sam later, but not before punching him in the face for making Cas an even _bigger_ contributor to his general sexual frustration than the ex-angel already was. Cas was still staring at him, eyes narrowed even more.

"_What_?" Dean said, maybe a bit more snappishly than necessary.

"Since my fall, my sight has been somewhat… off." Cas tilted his head in that way that was so Cas but so inexplicably attractive that Dean _actually_ had to turn away and take a deep breath. He felt like an excitable, hormonal teenager all over again, and it fucking _sucked_.

"Now that I can see clearly," Cas was saying, ignoring or not noticing Dean's awkward attempt at keeping his cool, "I can very easily see how unsettled you look."

Dean just snorted. Unsettled. "I'm fine," he said, shooting Cas a fake smile over his shoulder and cringing internally when Cas' flat look told him he didn't buy it at all.

"Do the glasses displease you, Dean?" Cas asked.

"No," Dean managed to get out. "Really, Cas. They're cool. They're fine. Just glasses."

Cas' voice took on just the slightest edge of smugness. "Or is it that they _please_ you?"

Dean cleared his throat loudly and inched towards the door. He didn't really know why. He kinda just wanted to flee because that was Cas' newly-found teasing voice, and that was usually accompanied by a cheeky grin and maybe laughing blue eyes and he really didn't think he was emotionally stable to deal with that _and_ the glasses.

"They're glasses," he said dumbly.

Cas did something like a laugh, blowing a puff of air from his nose as his lips quirked up, and yup, there it was, Dean was gonna die today. He really wished sometimes that Cas hadn't picked up so many of their mannerisms and still didn't know how to tease. "I'll take it I was correct in my assumption that you like them?"

"No," Dean said automatically, a flush creeping out from beneath the collar of his blue plaid shirt. "You don't know me," he found himself rambling pointlessly, "you don't know my life, you don't know how much milk I like in my cereal, damn it, Cas – "

"You don't like cereal," Cas pointed out helpfully. "Except for Lucky Charms."

Dean threw his hands up and turned to face Cas again, raising his eyebrows in warning. "You're wrong," he said, very seriously.

"No, I'm not." Cas stared at him. "You literally said it the other day. You don't like cereal."

"Not about _that_."

"About what, then?" And then Dean _really_ wished Cas hadn't picked up on their habits and – god forbid – learnt what teasing meant. The ex-angel leaned back slightly, causing his borrowed flannel to fall open on one side and the T-shirt underneath to ride up just the slightest bit. He gave a tiny grin and idly fingered the bottom of one lens, eyes gleaming up at him in that mischievous way they'd learnt to do, and Dean actually felt his knees shake a little bit.

Cas' grin turned smug. "I was right. You _do_ like them."

"This – this is dumb," Dean sputtered, successfully distracted and flustered by Cas' little display, "they're fine, they're just _glasses_, Cas –"

"Glasses," Cas agreed, "that are raising quite the situation in your pants." He raised his eyebrows slightly and glanced down at the front of Dean's pants. Dean immediately snapped his legs shut and turned away, ears flaring hot, cheeks reddening. He also wished Cas hadn't picked up their unfortunate habit of being an asshole.

"I hate you right now," he said under his breath.

Cas' grin widened. "Your obvious arousal suggests otherwise."

"Cas, for fuck's sake— shut _up_."


End file.
